


Consequences

by Lynds



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Charles, Charles Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Compromise, Erik Being Cocky, Erik has Issues, Guilt, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Erik, Past Child Abuse, Poor Charles, Protective Erik, Regret, Revenge, Suicidal Thoughts, Telepathy, X-Men: First Class (2011), the damage a terrified young telepath could do to a brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-12 21:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: When Kurt and Cain Marko turn up at Westchester in the middle of the team's training, Erik is disgusted to see Charles and Raven hide their true selves and cringe away from these humans. But there's a lot he doesn't understand about the Xaviers' past, and what Charles is willing and able to do to protect those he loves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After binge reading half of the Cherik tag, I got two stories burrowing deep into my head that I couldn't resist bringing to life. This is the first. It's complete, and I'll be updating every 6 days - I'd love to hear what you think!

The sudden explosion through Erik’s mind of _oh God no please not now not you please don’t be—_ was excruciating enough that he almost fell to his knees, hands clasped around his ears. It cut off as fast as it started, and he was instantly up, running, because he couldn’t hear or feel Charles in his head any more.

He could hear voices at the bottom of the stairs, and though there was none of the desperate despair leaking barbed tendrils out, he chose it as the most likely source of discord, and raced down two at a time, and stopped.

Charles was standing perfectly well, perfectly upright, smiling, even, and introducing people to a man at the front door. “My stepfather, Kurt Marko. Ah, and this is Erik Lehnsherr. Please, come in. I’m afraid I thought you were in California, or I would have announced myself, I’m so sorry.”

“I was in California,” said the man, his voice the peak of New England breeding, spine straight and cold smile, cold manners, cold hand shaking Erik’s. “Good to meet you, Mr Lehnsherr. Now, Charlie, why are all of these—“

“Charlie,” said a voice, and there was another wave of terror, despair, pain, just the slightest window opened and then shut, cut off as if the needle had been taken off a record, and a large blonde man appeared and snatched Charles up off his feet. 

Erik instantly had every fragment of metal at his call, but Charles’ voice cried _wait_ in his mind, and he waited. Charles’ hands came up, unclenched, and patted the man on the back. 

A hug. Just a hug. Erik released the metal, irritated. “Hello Cain,” said Charles softly. The man didn’t put him down.

“Cain,” Kurt snapped. “Come here.”

“Charlie,” said Cain, and rocked slightly with Charles in his vast, muscled arms, and Erik felt his suspicion rise again, felt the metal ready. 

“Cain!” Kurt barked. Cain let Charles drop back to his feet and shuffled over to Charles’ stepfather, his head hanging low. He glanced up at Erik, and a smile drifted over his otherwise blank face. He held out his arms, and Erik started back as he realised the man was going to come in for a hug with _him_. Kurt slapped his hands down.

Charles flinched. Just a little thing, and had he not been in direct eye line with Charles behind Cain’s left shoulder, Erik might never have noticed, but it came along with just a fragment of _fear pain distress guilt_ , and Erik narrowed his eyes.

“I suppose you’ve left our rooms undisturbed, Charlie?” said Kurt, and Charles smiled, clasping his hands together.

“Yes, of course, the whole of the west wing is entirely yours, as always, sir.”

“Yes, yes, enough of that. You’re not a butler, Charlie.” Kurt glanced at the assembled faces. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m sure. Dinner will be at seven, I’ll see you all then.”

“I thought we were getting takeout,” Sean whispered, and squeaked as Hank elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“I’m so terribly sorry about that,” Charles said, turning his smile back to the room at large, as Cain’s heavy footsteps faded. “I had no idea… they’ve been in California for so long, I just… I’ll find out what their plan is.” He tugged his hair with one hand, his smile brittle, his other hand clenched so hard the knuckles were white.

“Charles,” said Erik, grabbing his wrist as he walked past. Charles stiffened, froze in his grip. “What was all that?”

He blinked, and Erik could _see_ the lies forming behind his pretty blue eyes. He pursed his lips. “Don’t mistake me for an idiot.”

“I’m… I’m not, I wouldn’t, he said, quickly, almost breathless, and that was… new. “I just honestly thought…”

“Not the unexpected visitors. The panic. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“The what?”

“I heard you. When they arrived, you must have opened the door to them. I heard you.” He tapped his temple.

“Oh. Oh, Erik, I’m so very sorry, I swear I wasn’t in your head, I wasn’t…” He’d gone pale, eyes wide, and Erik frowned. “I promise I’m trying to respect your privacy, I wouldn’t… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, that shouldn’t have come out, I’ll try harder…”

“I don’t care that I _heard_ it, Charles, you’re missing the point.” He did not say, I want you to be able to come to me for help, because he didn’t have the words for such softness. “I care _what_ I heard. If there’s any danger—“

“Oh!” Charles looked both relieved and disappointed. “No, there’s no danger at all, not to— no, it’s just… an inconvenience. Just wasn’t expecting them.”

There was something unsaid, there, but Erik left it, released his arm, let Charles slip past him, soft and apologetic, allowing the world and Erik to push him to the side when he was capable of taking anything he wanted.

And wasn’t it strange that he didn’t, thought Erik. He’d known rich boys, known privileged families who grew up in houses like this one and considered it par for the course. Men like Charles who couldn’t imagine hardship or hunger or the burning need for vengeance, for a way to put this world right, take power away from those who should never have had it.

So why did Charles not wield his privilege like all the others? 

He shook his head and carried on, out of the house. There was some new tension, or if not new, an old tension that had suddenly sprung to life, wrapping its coils around his lungs, and he needed to run.

***

The entire household seemed to have congregated in the kitchen when he returned from his run, dripping with sweat and breathing hard.

“Your stepfather and stepbrother are here,” he said to Raven.

“I know,” she said, biting her lip. “Hank told me.”

He pulled some orange juice out of the fridge, poured himself a glass. “Blonde again, I see?” he said dryly, raising an eyebrow at her.

She blinked and looked miserable, but turned back to her true self. “Oh, my God, Raven, clothes!” Moira shrieked, covering her eyes.

Alex stared wide-eyed. “Or you could stay like that, whatever you want.”

Raven frowned at him and shifted a pair of trousers and a black shirt onto her scales. “Eyes front, idiot.”

“And a very nice front it was too,” he quipped, but he looked up at her face again.

Raven’s scales went a darker blue, and she pouted slightly. “I have to be blonde in front of Kurt and Cain,” she said. “They don’t know about me.”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up. “How long have they lived here without knowing?”

She shrugged. “I guess just over twenty years? They moved in when Charles was about eight or nine, just before I turned up.”

“And you’ve been hiding, all this time.”

“I’m sorry, my friend, I know you don’t approve,” said Charles behind him, and Erik turned to see him leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed tightly. “It seemed… it was the right thing to do, at the time.” He straightened up and looked around, his little smile back in place. “May I ask that everyone keeps their abilities under wraps, please? Just for a couple of days… I’m terribly sorry to ask this of you, especially when I know we should be training, but Kurt said they will only be here for the weekend, on the way to a…” He frowned and hunched, ever so slightly. “A facility, for Cain.”

“Where’s he taking him?” Raven asked, sitting up straight. “I thought he was in a home in San Francisco.”

“Apparently Kurt disapproved of some of their methods, I couldn’t… I didn’t want to pry…”

“You,” teased Erik. “ _You_ didn’t want to pry?” and then instantly felt guilty when Charles bowed his head. His smile was still there, still reassuring everyone that everything was _fine_ , but all of a sudden Erik didn’t feel very reassured. “Sorry,” he said, barely more than a mutter.

“No, you’re right,” he laughed. “It is my power, after all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make sure the bunker’s locked up.” He nodded at the room in general, and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik learns what Charles has been hiding for so long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the updated tags, I just realised there's some thoughts Erik has which probably count as suicidal ideation...

Dinner was a quiet affair, held in the formal dining room with a large meal Charles and Raven had organised. Kurt sat at the head of the table, Charles to his left and Raven to the right. He had tried to sit Cain to his right, but Cain didn’t seem to want to leave Charles’ side, clinging on to his arm any time he wasn’t eating. And often while he _was_ eating, fumbling with his fork wrong-handed. 

“So, Charlie tells me you’re all here for a study group, is that right?”

The table replied with varying levels of convincing. Alex said ‘whut’, and Hank overcompensated by talking about the research they’d been doing on genetic variability, studying the frogs in the pond that apparently Charles had been monitoring for years.

“Yeah, Charlie always a bit of a drip,” Kurt snorted, pushing his food to one side. “Well, it’s good to see you can make friends, boy.” He narrowed his eyes at Charles, who was sitting, tense and staring at the table while Cain nuzzled into his shoulder. “I suppose you made them the usual way? Not your… freaky way?”

Charles blinked rapidly. “Of course, sir, I wouldn’t… I promise, I promised…”

“Yes, yes, whatever.” He waved his hand imperiously. “Well, you’ll have the house back to yourselves after tomorrow for your little… experiments.” He glanced at Hank, who ducked his head quickly.

“Oh, leaving so soon?” Raven said, her voice brittle. 

Cain looked over at her and smiled. “Raven,” he said dreamily. Then his eyes unfocused and drifted over to Alex. “New person.”

Kurt’s jaw twitched. “Yes, we’ve got an appointment at the Herringford clinic tomorrow afternoon.”

Charles’ eyes widened. “What? The Herringford, you can’t… you’re not going to leave him there?”

“And what if I am?”

“They’ll… sir, their methods are outdated, to say the least. Cruel.”

“And what would you care?” he said coldly. “Cain, up. Time for bed.”

“Charlie,” said Cain sadly, clinging on to Charles’ arm tighter. Charles winced, and Erik forcibly unclenched his hand from around the butter knife, where it had left fingerprints.

“Cain,” he snapped. “Now, boy! Bed.”

“But Charlie,” he whined.

“God damnit!” Kurt’s hand slapped the table, and everyone jumped. “Get your ass up to bed, or I will whip it!” 

Cain whimpered, but untangled his arms from Charles’, and slumped out of the room. Kurt took a moment to dab his mouth with his napkin, fold it and place it on his side plate. 

“Gentlemen. Ladies,” he said, as he pushed himself to his feet.

There was silence as his footsteps receded into the distance. “Charles, what’s wrong with the Herringford clinic?” Raven asked softly, a murmur, as if Kurt might be waiting outside to hear them gossip.

“They’re… they don’t care,” he said, his eyes still staring down at the white tablecloth. “They just… they claim they’re experimental but it’s just… it’s torture. Lobotomies and… excuse me, please?”

Before anyone could say anything, he was on his feet and out of the door.

“Anyone know what that was all about?” Erik asked, his voice dangerously calm, eyes glancing around the table.

Raven sighed and put her fork down. “Cain had a… well, I don’t know, a stroke, or something, when he was twenty-four. It affected his mind, terribly. Since then he’s only been able to say very basic sentences, and as you can see, he’s very attached to Charles.” She snorted and pursed her lips up. “Ironic, really. Charles was always a little bit scared of him. Don’t know why.”

“And this place Kurt is taking him? What is that?”

“It’s a mental institution,” Hank said sadly. “Very old fashioned, though it claims to be cutting edge. Really, it’s a dumping ground for unwanted people, it’s… to call it Victorian would be kind.”

Erik looked around, then towards the door, where Charles had run to argue with his overbearing stepfather, about the stepbrother he seemed to be repulsed by, and rolled his eyes. Someone was going to have to save Charles from himself, again, and it looked like a job that was going to fall to Erik, again. He wasn’t sure when this new role in his life had happened.

He pushed his chair back and stalked out, leaving the rest of them in the dining room, still unsure and deciding what to do, or trying to eat unobtrusively, all oppressed by this new presence, this _human_ interloper that Charles and Raven seemed determined to be afraid of.

He heard the voices as he approached down the corridor, Charles’ calm, quiet voice, Kurt’s raised, forceful. Flares of fear struck at his solar plexus every so often, and Erik slowed down, because if Charles was so afraid that his shields were failing again, then perhaps there was more to the situation than met the eye. Perhaps Erik needed to approach with caution, in case there was as yet unseen danger.

“And what would you care?” Kurt sneered, and Erik walked closer to the wall, the better to stay out of sight. He could feel every piece of metal in the room ahead of them, Charles’ belt buckle, his cufflinks, Kurt’s tie pin, every screw and pin scattered in the room. “It’s your fault he’s like this, isn’t it, boy?”

“Yes,” said Charles softly, and Erik frowned, straining to hear. “And that’s why I can’t let you do this, Kurt--”

“Let me? You’ll _let_ me do nothing, Charlie, you don’t give me permission, you hear?”

“Yes, sir, I just meant--”

“Just nothing! How dare you come in here and tell me what to do with my son, my son who you _ruined_ with your freak powers, how _dare_ you?” There was movement, Charles stuttering backwards, Kurt advancing on him, and Erik slipped closer, so he could see.

Charles was standing backed up to the desk in the room, which appeared to be a study. His shoulders were hunched, his head down and turned to the side, fists clenching and unclenching in anxiety, and Kurt towered over him, inches away from grabbing at him, doing _something_ , and Erik felt a wave of fury.

“I should have got rid of you when I had the chance,” said Kurt, so softly Erik couldn’t even be sure he had heard him right.

Charles’ head raised, looking up, up to meet the great man’s eyes. “You know I could make you leave him--”

His arm lashed out and Erik felt the strike as it connected with Charles’ cheekbone, throwing him to sprawl on the floor. He felt the pain and terror, and a fury that was entirely his own as he threw himself into the room, every piece of metal at his command leaping forwards and hovering under Kurt Marko’s chin, digging into his neck, into his kidneys, just _waiting_ to hear the word to kill, just--

“Erik, no, please!”

“He hit you,” Erik snarled.

“It’s… it’s fine, Erik, really, it’s just…”

“You’re one of them,” Kurt ground out, the sound squeezing past the metal at his throat. “You’re one of the freaks. I knew you couldn’t find normal friends, Charlie, could only find other weirdos like yourself.”

“You keep talking,” Erik said, his head tilting to one side. “See how far you can go before I cut the sound off.”

“Erik, please!” Charles snapped. “Let me handle it.”

“Yes, I can see you’ve handled yourself very well, Charles, well done. Go and get some ice on your face.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he said, low and firm, looking up at him with those blue eyes, and Erik _hated_ them, hated that he would do anything for him. “Please, my friend,” Charles begged.

Erik looked at him fully. “You could always stop me.”

He saw the moment something broke behind his eyes, something precious that he hadn’t even known was there. Something only just mended, and Erik had smashed it to pieces, and he wanted to gather them all up, put them back together, apologise, but he didn’t know how.

“Never,” Charles said. “I would never.”

He turned and walked towards Kurt Marko, and Erik drew back the metal in the only apology he had left, returned every piece to its rightful place gently. “I… I’ll look after Cain. Here. You know he l-likes me. He’ll want to stay.”

Kurt glared at him, his lip curling slightly at the edge, just under his nose. “As if I would let you anywhere near him.”

“Then let him go back to San Francisco. He was happy there, wasn’t he?”

Kurt snorted. “He wasn’t getting any better.”

“He won’t _get_ better, Kurt--”

“And whose fault is that?” he asked, and Erik heard grief in his voice, though he never wanted to admit to it, never wanted to know that this man who terrified Charles could feel. “Who took that away from him?”

“I did. And I will pay for him to receive the best possible treatment, with the greatest kindness. Herringford is no kindness at all, and I won’t have it.”

“You’ll pay for it, will you?” Kurt nodded, disgusted. “You’ll pay, with my money?”

“You know perfectly well that Mother and Father left me more than enough.”

“It should have been Cain’s in the first place.”

“Why?” Charles snapped, suddenly stepping forwards into Kurt’s space in fury. “Because you took pity on a drunk, broken woman and married her? Don’t pretend there was ever any morality in that decision, Kurt, we all know you resented every moment she lived longer than the wedding.”

“How dare you?”

“Telepath, remember? I heard every thought you ever had, every cruelty, every hatred. Just…” He sagged. “Let Cain be, please? Let this be my punishment, if you want to think of it like that?”

“You deserve so much worse,” he shook his head, staring down at Charles.

“I know,” Charles said. “But this is all I can give.”

Kurt stared at Charles for a long moment. At last he waved his hand in assent, and turned, walking out of the room without a backwards glance. Charles slumped as he left, air rushing out of him in a sigh that was more like a sob than anything.

“Charles,” said Erik, his voice coming out harsh and angry to hide up the fear - not for himself, but for Charles, because there was something about Charles that should never be hurt, never be unhappy, and when he was, Erik’s world tilted.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Charles said, straightening up and wiping his face, his back still turned. “I never meant for anyone else to be involved in my family… ugliness.” He turned back to Erik, his smile in place. How had he not noticed before that this smile was a wall of its own?

“What was that all about?” he asked, crossing his arms to stop himself from grabbing on to Charles. To shake him, or to hold him, he wasn’t sure. “He blames you for his son’s disability - why?”

Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Because… it’s my fault.”

“How?” he scoffed, and then stopped. 

He’d known that there was more to Charles’ telepathy than parlour tricks and mind reading. He’d seen him hold a crowd in place, seek out secrets, find individual minds scattered across the country, and yet he’d allowed himself to be fooled by the soft exterior, the pretty blue eyes, sweet smiles and dowdy clothes. Charles was a high calibre rifle wrapped in an academic’s woolen jumper.

And how much of that mask went beyond the appearance? Charles could make himself appear exactly how he wanted to anyone, if he chose to make them believe he was harmless, was there really a person alive who could resist the lie?

Charles blinked, then gave a strained smile, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Well, if that’s what I’d done, you would never have figured it out, would you, Erik?”

“Charles, I--”

“Sorry,” he said, with a little laugh. “I didn’t actually try to read your mind but… it’s hard not to when you’re shouting at me in my own head. I did try, once, you know. To cut out all projected thoughts. It turns out I can’t actually understand speech without the addition of the mental voice, so… I’m afraid that really must stay, no matter how much of an invasion of privacy it is.” He cleared his throat and made for the door. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“You misunderstand me,” Erik said, reaching out to grab his upper arm. “It impresses me, you know. Your power.” He pulled Charles around so they stood face to face, a few bare inches between them, and stared firmly into his eyes. “You know the life I’ve led. You really did see everything, didn’t you? Everything I’ve done. I thought you were exaggerating when you said so.”

“Well, I was,” he said, tilting his head to one side. “I can’t see every memory at once any more than you can, what I meant was that everything you felt, everything you saw or remembered at that moment when I first touched you, I felt it too. I know what Shaw did, what he is. I know why you feel like you must kill him.”

“Then why try to convince me otherwise?”

“Because you think killing Shaw will be the end. That you’ll be able to feel peace then, when he’s dead, and that’s not true.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “Now, you see, when you first said such things to me, I thought you couldn’t possibly know what you were talking about. A rich, soft creature like yourself, who’s never known hardship - what could you possibly know of revenge and peace? But now…” He was still holding Charles’ arm, and he tightened his grip momentarily, just a squeeze, reminding them of the connection. “Tell me what happened to Cain.”

Charles closed his eyes, his face lined with grief and guilt, but, Erik thought, maybe a little relief as well, the relief of giving up a secret long kept. “When I was nine, my mother remarried,” he said, his voice rough, his eyes still shut, just lightly, so the eyelashes fluttered together. “Kurt was cold, and cruel, but… I was used to that. With my mother, you know?” 

Erik didn’t know, but he said nothing, just rubbed his thumb along Charles’ bicep, and Charles continued. “Cain, though… he was… he was six years older than me and usually he wasn’t at home. But when he was, he…” 

He cleared his throat and pulled away, walking towards the cold fireplace. He leaned against the mantlepiece, his fist clenched. “He enjoyed hurting small creatures. I was readily available.”

Erik gritted his teeth, felt the familiar fury rise in his blood. He wanted to tear the human to pieces, hold up every scar he could imagine on Charles’ skin as he extracted his revenge, took back the blood he’d stolen from his friend. 

But a glance at Charles’ spine, curled protectively at the fireplace, made some barriers he hadn’t known he had rise, bank the furious flames and lock them away for later. Instead, he walked up behind Charles, placed his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing gently at the hairline, soft curls falling over his fingers.

Charles gasped, just slightly, then pulled away to turn to face him, looking inexplicably guilty again. “You can’t be sorry for me,” he begged. “I don’t… I don’t deserve any… any respect, or care for what happened to me. Erik, I’m not this… this good person you seem to think I am.”

“Bullshit, Charles, you’re the best person I know,” he said, soft but firm.

He looked furious, and terrified. And distraught, as well, but he still held up his hand to Erik’s temple in a clear request for permission. “Allow me to disabuse you of that notion, then,” he snapped. 

Erik leaned forwards, allowing his head to touch Charles’ hand, and was instantly struck with a series of memories. Charles hurt, Charles _hating_ his stepbrother, so viscerally that it made people for miles around irrationally angry. Seeing Cain hurt his sister, hurt Raven, and the rage that felt so at home in Erik’s blood flared once more, but it wasn’t _his_ rage. He held out his hand to Cain, wanting to punish, wanting to take everything from him, hating so hard his vision nearly whited out.

Erik came back to the room, gasping for air, his legs trembling. It took him a moment before he could focus on Charles, who looked at him with sad, empty eyes.

“If I’d had more control, I could have just made him go away. That’s what I’d do now - I have done so, since. When necessary.” He looked away. “But I wanted him to suffer, and now he’s gone. Everything that was Cain is now just… gone. Irreparably.”

“And Raven?” Erik asked, and his voice croaked, like he’d been screaming.

Charles smiled like a broken mask. “She was terrified. I was… I couldn’t believe what I’d done, and I wanted to… to help. I made her forget. She knew something was wrong, after. She knew she was missing time. But the memories are gone, I can’t put them back. I wouldn’t want to. Either way, that’s when she made me promise never to go near her mind again.”

“And Kurt?” Erik said. 

“I… I’d like to tell you that I’d learned my lesson. That it was a choice, not to scramble his mind. But by the time he showed up I was too exhausted to defend myself in any way. And then after that… well, then I had to recover from Kurt finding me.”

Erik felt his hands clench into fists again, muscles and metal ready to punish someone.

“Erik, do you think that brought me peace?” Charles said, his head tilted at that angle he took on when he was giving a lecture, but there was no little smile this time, nothing to hide the deep well of sadness beneath his blue eyes. “I got my revenge. Cain will never hurt anyone again. Do you think that brings me anything other than regret and remorse? Do you really think it will be different for you when you kill Shaw?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Because I’ll be dead.”

Charles froze, every muscle still, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open. Erik raised his eyebrows. “I know this mission will be the death of me, I’ve always known that. Could you not see that, when you saw my mind, in Miami?”

“I thought… I knew you were prepared to… then. But…”

Erik brushed the backs of his fingers along Charles’ darkening cheekbone, and for just a moment he allowed the tenderness he always pushed to the side, knowing it was an extravagance. “I am a weapon. I don’t want to be, but I need to do this. I cannot allow Shaw to live, he’ll tear the world to pieces and make weapons of us all. Even at your most idealistic you must see that. But killing him will be the death of me. I know I wouldn’t be strong enough without giving everything, and I’m willing to do that.” 

And he had looked forward to it, as well. He’d dreamed of the oblivion of death for years, the rest at the end of his mission. But here, with Charles’ warm skin beneath his own, he felt the pang of regret for the first time. What he wouldn’t give to have met him in different circumstances, in a different life, this vibrant, kind, endlessly generous man. He would have liked to live.

Charles stepped close, reached up to pull his face closer, kissing him so gently, like a farewell, and Erik sighed into it, wrapping his arms around his body, pulling him tight so that every inch that touched felt like it was on fire with the heat of him. He closed his eyes and sank into him, and let the moment stretch out to give him a lifetime, the life and love he’d never have.

“Don’t say that,” Charles whispered. “Don’t… don’t think it. I’m not going to let you die, not while I can… I can help you.”

He shook his head, pressing his face into Charles’ neck. “I don’t expect you to give up your ideals for me any more than I would for you.”

“You misunderstand my morals, then,” Charles said, holding his cheeks and forcing him to look at him. “Like I misunderstood your intentions. I thought you were expecting this revenge mission to bring you peace afterwards, that you’d feel like you can rest afterwards. That all the consequences would be tied up into a neat bow of… of karma and retribution. I never thought your peace was death.”

“What difference does it make?”

“You said that you aren’t strong enough to defeat him and survive… what about as a team?”

“Of teenagers and one human CIA agent?”

“And the most powerful telepath in North America. I know, I’ve checked. In Cerebro. There are quite a few other telepaths, but none that can do what I can, none with my range or ability. Although, there is a very young child not far from here who has remarkable potential, but that’s beside the point. As you said, Erik, I’m a high calibre rifle, and if Shaw is left unchecked he will try to destroy the world. Let me help you complete your mission, and then the two of us will face the consequences together. It will not bring us peace, we both know that, but… it’s what needs to be done.”

Erik stared at him. His eyes were dark, a depthless sea, the sun beating on the surface and all manner of monsters beneath, and he loved him. “You’d do that for me? Take on these consequences that aren’t yours?”

Charles kissed him again, hands clasped around the back of his neck, curling through his short hair. “I don’t think you realise quite how much I would do for you, my friend.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuba

There was something different in Charles now, a resignation. He was quieter, even with the children’s training, spoke less of morality and the greater good, and when Erik narrowed his eyes at that realisation, he simply sent an image of his stepbrother being led off into one car to return to California while his stepfather carried on into New York city without a backwards glance. _Who am I to speak of ethics?_ he asked softly, and turned to walk away.

Erik followed him, caught up with him in the corridor outside the study and pushed him against the wall, kissing him breathless. “You’re the only one I’d listen to,” he answered, and lifted him up, breathing kisses into his neck as he clung to him like he was drowning.

They lay close together afterwards, not bothering to emerge for dinner, wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun rose on the day they’d be flying to Cuba. 

Charles flew with his jaw set, his eyes hard, and Erik was the one left to encourage the team, keep them calm and safe. He kept his focus on them, on the serenity needed to protect the children, both older and also so much _younger_ than he had been when he first hunted down the same evil.

He faced Shaw. He heard Charles’ voice in his head, calming him, talking him down from the panic. _I will not let you die here,_ Charles said, and Erik found his balance. He whipped the helmet away from his monster, felt Charles’ mind wrapping around Shaw’s, holding it in place while Erik drove the coin forwards, his mother’s brave smile at the front of his every thought.

As the coin burrowed into Shaw's skull, Erik thought he heard a truncated scream of pain .But it was gone in an instant, and he kept his focus, driving the coin through and out, ending it. He almost slumped when he saw Shaw’s body fall an empty, lifeless thing with no more power than a stuffed animal, and for a moment hysteria overwhelmed him. Was this it? Was it truly over? How could that be possible, with him still living? Charles had told him, over and over, breathed into his ear, into his very mind as they moved together, as they played chess, as they handed each other coffee, he wasn’t going to let Erik die destroying Shaw, but… he hadn’t realised until now that it had all felt like a dream, an impossible wish.

He stumbled out of the risen submarine, met Charles’ eyes as he staggered out of the downed jet, and laughed. Charles smiled, his face tense, and Erik started forwards to him, and stopped.

“The missiles… they’re firing…”

“What?”

“Charles, check! They’re both firing, both navies.”

Charles turned to the ships, his face going slack with horror, and he turned back to Erik, speechless.

“Oh my God,” Raven said, almost under her breath. Moira raced back to the jet, screaming into the radio.

Erik felt the rage rise in his blood again, tipping the balance, only this time, the balance had shifted. Shaw was dead. He had done the impossible, and come out the other side, alive. He held up his hand as the missiles screamed towards them, and stopped them, every single one bobbing in the air, peacefully. 

How dare they? How dare they try to take everything from him again, after everything he’d lost, everything they had all given to stop the annihilation of their world, and the humans had the audacity to fire on him? He turned the missiles, his focus complete, and every single one aimed itself towards its origin.

“Erik… Erik, please, no…” Charles’ voice shook, and he reached out to touch Erik’s arm. Flashes of panic started to come through. _Going to die Someone save us_. 

Erik projected calm towards him. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Charles, not to any of them. _Our Father, who art in Heaven._ “Please… oh God, there are innocent people on those boats!”

The panic rose as the missiles got closer to the ships, _I’m never going to see them again_ and Erik wished, selfishly, _please God let us get through this_ that he could block out Charles’ worry, _my children, what will they do_ the way it was disrupting his concentration. _Will she name the baby after me_

He frowned, and several missiles fell into the water. “What?”

“They’re just _oh God I should never have signed on_ following _my little girl, only four_ orders _will it hurt_ Erik”

And suddenly, _I don’t think I can handle feeling them all die._

“What?” he said sharply, and all the missiles fell. Erik turned and grabbed Charles’ wrists, shaking him, and the skin contact made the voices flow faster _are we safe oh my God my heart is it gone what are we going to do oh God please don’t let them tell us to fire I can’t do this we’re outgunned I just want my babies I just want my mother oh God, my head_

“Charles!” Erik snapped. “Block them out, shut them down!”

“I… I can’t, it hurts!”

“You, Azazel,” he said, turning to the teleporter, held tightly by Hank. Like all of Shaw’s people, he had seemed to deflate when Erik had emerged unscathed. “Take all of us away - if you get us all to safety you can go wherever you like after that, I don’t care, just…”

He nodded, and everyone gathered together, linking hands. Erik wrapped his arm around Charles’ waist, held Moira’s hand tightly, and nodded. The beach disappeared in red smoke.

They appeared in a field, and Charles sighed, his tense muscles relaxing and slumping closer to Erik. Erik glared at Azazel, not willing to trust him yet. “Where are we?”

“Wisconsin,” Azazel said. “Am I free to go now?”

“He’s telling the truth, Erik,” said Charles, straightening up. “Although,” he added, looking from face to face in the Hellfire club. “You’re welcome to come with us, if you’re interested in a different path for mutantkind. One that doesn’t lead to a nuclear winter.”

“The humans obviously aim to destroy us,” Erik ground out. “We’d be better staying together, all of us.”

“Not all of them wish to destroy us,” Charles said softly, glancing to Moira.

Erik rolled his eyes. “Only the ones in power, Charles.”

Charles made a face, and rubbed his temples. “I’m too tired to argue.” He looked up at Janos, Angel and Azazel, shifting uncomfortably. It didn’t take a telepath to see their mistrust and confusion. “The offer stands. Stay as long as you like.”

“Why are you so trusting?” Angel shook her head.

He gave a false smile. “I’m a telepath. I don’t have to trust you. I know when someone means me harm.” His face hardened. “And you should know I am perfectly capable of protecting myself and those I care about.”

Angel stared at him, then nodded once, sharply. “I’m in.”

Janos shrugged. Azazel held out his hand. Erik held tight to Charles’ shoulder, just in case the teleporter had a trick up his sleeve, but Charles simply shook on the agreement. “If I give you the location of the mansion, will you be able to take us all there?”

He nodded, and the world disappeared once more, replaced by the lawn outside the Westchester mansion. Erik felt something under his ribs uncoil at the sight of the pretentious old pile. As if some part of his body and mind recognised it as _home_. Charles smiled tiredly at him, and at that, his entire soul recognised home.

They couldn’t simply collapse into their room as they both wanted. There were rooms to find for the new people, by unspoken agreement in a different wing to the current inhabitants of the house. There were ground rules to cover, and even, thanks to Alex and Angel, a screaming fight about Darwin, which resulted in both of them storming off in opposite directions, Alex down to the bunker to burn off some grief. 

When Erik started noticing Charles wincing and rubbing his temple every time someone snapped or glared, he realised the steady migraine he was feeling wasn’t actually his own. He slapped some money in Sean’s hand, told him to call for pizza, and hauled Charles off to bed.

“I’m really fine,” he protested, which was clearly utter rubbish by the way he was rubbing his eye socket. “I should be there to keep the peace.”

“It’ll be good for them to sort out their own problems - you’re not their parent, Charles.”

He sighed and let Erik manhandle him into the huge, dimly lit room. “It’s only eight o’clock. Would you like a drink?”

Erik just shrugged and sat on the window seat, staring out at the dusk. Now that he was finally at rest, his mind went back through the battle. It had always been like this. He’d focus on the present until the fight was over, then, exhausted, he’d revisit it and dwell, and analyse.

It was a good thing. He always remembered more than he realised at first, and he’d learned new techniques and strategies from analysing his own actions after the fact. He was just a little surprised that it was hitting him while he was still in Charles’ company. He had thought it would wait until he was completely alone.

Now he revisited the beach, a fierce pride at having lifted the sub, irritation at having lost his focus and allowed Riptide to knock the jet off course. At least he had been able to stop Charles from tumbling around as they crashed, and he shuddered at how close they had been to ending the battle there.

The fight with Shaw drew out in his mind, every moment observed from every angle. Charles was right, there was no new peace to be found from killing the man, but he did feel like he could take a breath at last, his greatest demon vanquished, his greatest threat eliminated.

And then the nukes. He clenched his fists at his sides, the thought of those ungrateful, stupid humans turning their weapons on them - and Charles! Now, without the whirlwind of voices coming through from the humans’ minds he remembered what Charles had said, how he’d tried to stop him - ‘they’re just following orders’. How dare he? What was he _thinking?_

There was a clatter of glass on glass and Erik looked up to see Charles staring at him in horror, whiskey dripping onto the tablecloth. “Erik… oh my friend, I’m so… I can’t believe I said it like that, I’m so sorry.”

Erik raised his eyebrows as Charles approached him, his hands fluttering. “I’m sorry, I heard… my boundaries are all shot to hell since… but I’m so sorry for being so thoughtless!”

“Charles, Charles! It’s fine,” he said, standing and touching Charles’ cheek.

“It’s not,” said Charles, looking distraught. Erik could _hear_ his regret, and a current of fear underpinning it, and he frowned. Charles closed his eyes, and the fear peaked. _Stupid stupid careless insensitive stupid boy._

“Charles! Calm down, you’re projecting.” Charles gasped and opened his eyes again, and the sound cut off completely. So did the throbbing pain in his head. Erik had expected that at least _some_ of the pain would have been his own headache. 

He pushed it to the side for a moment, running his fingertips through Charles’ hair. “It was… a stupid thing to say,” he admitted, and Charles nodded, eyes damp. “I’ve already lost one family to men who were _just following orders_ \- and I know that’s all it is for some of them. They were just too weak, too scared to do what was right, so they did what was easy.” He pulled Charles close and kissed him on the forehead. “I refuse to lose another family to men just following orders.”

Charles whimpered and pressed himself close to Erik, his fingers gripping his shirt. “Erik, I know… I know you probably don’t want me anywhere near… it’s so selfish, but… please…”

“What is it, _liebchen?”_ he asked, trying to pull back to look at Charles’ face.

Charles struggled against him, trying to press closer. “I… I need…”

“What do you need, love? Anything.”

Charles reached up a trembling hand to Erik’s temple. “Please?” he whispered.

Erik held his hand there and nodded. “Of course.”

Before he even finished speaking Charles was sinking into his mind with another whimper, and he gasped. Charles seemed to be completely immersed in him, his mind spreading out with a greedy sigh, tangling into his very soul. _I’m sorry I’m sorry so selfish I need you, your mind, so safe, I’m so sorry._

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, with a little laugh. 

_It must feel so invasive… I just… you’re my anchor. You feel so wonderful._

“I’m glad to hear my mind is comfortable. And it doesn’t feel invasive,” he said, wrapping his arms around Charles’ back, plastering him against his chest. “I like it.”

“You… you do?” _So cool so safe doesn’t hurt any more_

“Why was it hurting?” Erik frowned.

Charles pulled back, tendrils of thought going silent. Erik tightened his arms. “Charles,” he said, warningly.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t lie to me, my friend. What was it? When you heard all the sailors?”

Charles shook his head, and tried to pull back again, but as he did so, a memory slipped out. A coin, a struggle to hold two minds, and a scream that went on and on.

Erik stumbled back, gasping, his hands pressed up to his head. 

“Erik! Erik, are you OK?” Charles scrambled for him, touching him on the face, the head, the hands.

“Wh… why didn’t you tell me?” he croaked, his throat as raw as if it had been him screaming. “You felt Shaw die, you felt the coin… I _hurt_ you!” His eyes widened with horror. “The scream that cut off, that was you!”

“I’m so sorry,” Charles said, his blue eyes rimmed with red and tears. “I never meant for you to feel it, I pulled back from you as soon as…”

“I don’t want you to apologise for that!” he shouted. “I _hurt_ you, Charles, how can you be apologising?” He grabbed his hands, torn between shaking him and protecting him from the world. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have… I would have…”

Charles closed his eyes. “There was nothing you could have done, no other way for us to… to kill Shaw. And I know we had to, I agree with that. I told you I would take the consequences with you, Erik, and this was one of them. If I hadn’t been in control of his mind, he would have been able to absorb the energy of the coin.”

“You say you will take the consequences with me, but it seems like you’re unwilling to actually share these consequences with me! Charles…” he cupped his face in both hands. “Are you trying to punish yourself?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Because that would, truly, be ridiculous. Sebastian Shaw was a monster, who did his best to turn me into a monster just like him, and you do not need to force yourself to suffer for his death.”

“I’m not, Erik,” he said, sighing and slumping into him. “It really was the only way.”

“Then why, when you started feeling the pain, did you pull away from my mind? We were in this together, I would have borne the pain with you. I _should_ have, as the one inflicting it.”

“It… it would have distracted you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It could have distracted you, but you managed to hold him immobile the entire time. You may say you’re not punishing yourself, but I think you are. I think you’re punishing yourself for your stepbrother, as well.”

Charles seemed to give up, closing his eyes and looking wretched. “My stepbrother… I went too far.”

“He was hurting you. He hurt Raven. What were you supposed to do? Just allow him to do so?”

“I was stronger than him--”

“No, you weren’t. Your mind was stronger than his, it’s true, but you weren’t in full control of your powers then. You acted out of fear for you and your sister, and you stopped the abuse.”

“I went too far. I could have--”

“But you didn’t. You can’t punish yourself for that forever, you know.”

“I deserve to be punished for taking a life.” Charles was almost whispering now, and Erik wrapped his arms around him. Even now he could feel flashes of pain and grief and guilt.

“You know, you can come back,” he said softly, lifting Charles’ hand to brush over his temple.

Charles looked up in shock. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I… God, my defences are just shocking right now, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry, Charles! I’ve said before, you’re welcome.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking up, deep blue glinting through black lashes. “I know it’s uncomfortable and intrusive, and--I just, your mind, it anchors me, I sometimes don’t even… I think my mind reaches out for yours without my intent.”

“I like it,” he shrugged. “I like the thought that I’m holding you in my mind. Protecting you.”

Charles stared at him for a moment, then surged forwards and kissed him, and their minds sank into each other at the same time. Charles sighed and went pliant in his arms, nuzzling into his neck, tendrils of thought twining around Erik’s, soft and peaceful.

“We’ll face it all together,” he said softly, stroking Charles’ hair, the strands matted with sand and sweat. “We’ll fight, and we’ll protect each other, and we won’t let anyone get away with treating us, or other mutants, like we’ve been treated. And we’ll face the consequences together, you hear? No more hiding the pain from me.”

Charles didn’t answer, but pressed even closer, clinging on, and in his mind Erik felt a whisper of _yes, thank you, I love you._ He smiled, and wrapped him in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't too difficult to read, with all the thought voices getting tangled up with Charles' speech! And I hope you liked the hurt/comfort and the alternative way of dealing with Charles' stupid choice of words!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting - this is such a lovely fandom! I've got another story I've written for this pairing, too, the chapters are shorter but there are more of them, so I'm going to try and start uploading that one soon too ^_^ Thank you everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I have a new [wordpress](https://lynhemphillauthor.wordpress.com/) blog! It's mostly for my original stuff, but I do write about fanfic too sometimes, so please come over and say hi ^_^


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